How My Blog Saved My Life

Long-term travel and moving is exhilarating. It’s freeing, an escape, and an adventure. What no one prepares you for are the hard times, the hard days, and all the sacrifices and feelings that come along with it.

In the month after my departure from Florida, I experienced some of the most incredible adventures in route to the West Coast. It was a whirlwind journey, where most days I didn’t have a moment to think about anything, but where I was going next and how I was getting there.

Overall, I sucked at contact.

I had no service, I was driving and adventuring and trying to live in the moment, while still capturing the moment.

Just like that, I slowly felt the gap of distance – from Florida, my friends, from everything I had known -increasing as the contact lessened by the day.

As my travels came to an end and I arrived at my parents for what I thought would be a short trip between my travels, something that was unfamiliar to me happened. My life suddenly came to an unforeseen halt.

All the feelings I had dreaded slowly came to life.

Stuck in Limbo

The road trip was over.

My contract was signed.

Every project and then some were completed that my mom and I had planned before my arrival.

I nursed my mom back to health as her doctor ordered (I had no idea I’d be here for nearly the entire 4-month recovery process).

I spent endless nights in with my parents for a movie night, game night, and family dinners. Reconnected with old friends for endless hikes and girl’s nights.

After 2-months, old ways, thoughts, and habits gradually entered my life.

I’d be lying to myself and you, if I didn’t mention that it crossed my mind to say F it all and stay. But stay where? Unemployed and homeless, I didn’t feel like I belonged anywhere anymore. I left Florida, which was no longer my home. I had already left my parents nearly a decade prior, it was no longer my home. Where is my home?

I was feeling beyond lost.

What. The. Fuck. Is. My. Life.

I was watching all my friends begin new relationships, get engaged and married, have kids and here I was getting ready to run away to China.

I was in a limbo between my old life and my new life to come. My mind constantly wandered…

Did I make the right decision?

Did I not give myself the chance to figure it out?

Am I just running away and constantly missing it? Whatever it is.

Before I even began, I suddenly started to feel like I had failed. My insecurities completely ruled my mind.

The FOMO is Real

Fear of Missing Out (FOMO) slowly crept up on me. I’m fortunate to say that I had little experience with this feeling. I never felt I was missing out on things. If I wanted to do it, I would do it. If I didn’t want to do it, I rarely felt obligated to do something I didn’t.

It was an odd feeling. I felt like an outsider in a life that was once mine.

Social media was the devil. I would watch friends, family and loved ones from my old life carry on with their lives without me. Every passing day, I no longer played a role in their lives. My position would be filled at my company, new bonds created with friends and roommates, and just like that, I would soon become nothing but a distant memory.

I missed my life, my friends, my routine. I hardly had a second to sit and think before, and now here I was drowning in my own thoughts.

Personal Prison

Many people do not understand depression or think it is simply just being really sad.

Depression is a constant mental battle that changes the way you think and how you feel about yourself, others, and everything around you. It affects your eating, sleeping, and daily life. A depression episode, mixed with anxiety is like being locked in a personal prison that only you hold the key to getting out of.

Suffering two major episodes of depression at different stages of my life; I was more than aware of the oncoming signs. It started quite slowly but once it began it had a domino effect on every aspect of my life. Trapped in my own harmful, negative thoughts, I felt powerless and hopeless.

My anxiety was higher than it had been in years. I lost my motivation to work out and slowly the insecurities of my figure turned into hating every single inch of my body.

I forgot my goals and my motivation vanished.

The go-getter adventurous girl disappeared.

Retreating to my bed, I slept all the time and was exhausted all the time.

I slowly began avoiding people.

I dreaded hearing, “what’s going on with China?” or “is China even still happening?”.

I didn’t reach out to anyone. I constantly made up excuses for not being available and avoided calls and texts like the plague. Pretending everything was okay, that I was okay, was exhausting. I couldn’t take it anymore.

It was all of my personal nightmares staring me straight in the eye waiting for me to fail. I surrendered to my insecurities.

Out of Control

I’d done this before. I’d gone through severe depression and with the help I had pulled through. I knew if I threw myself back into an intense workout routine, regularly surrounded myself with people who love me, and focus on something I was passionate about, I would slowly start to feel better physically and mentally.

Telling myself this and physically being able to do it are two completely different things, though. I lay in bed each night willing tomorrow to be better, that I would be better, but I couldn’t pull myself out of it.

Everything was out of my control.

I had no schedule, no purpose and there was nothing I could do.

Every day was a battle. I gave myself mental pep talks just to get out of bed, to make breakfast, and to do a simple 30-minute workout. Basic mindless things that once were so routine to me, felt like accomplishments.

Finding Myself…Again

I spent months going through my parents’ garage of my things from elementary to college. Journals, essays, assignments, notes, poems, and cards. Reading through them brought me back to a time when as a nerdy little girl, reading and writing were my only outlet.

In my life, I’ve used many types of outlets.

Drugs, drinking, and anger are amongst the unhealthy versions of these outlets. Through age and experiences, I’ve progressed to healthier versions such as writing and kickboxing. There’s nothing like punching a bag to get your anger out or writing down everything you wish you could say to that jerk who broke your heart.

I could not let myself slip away into a puddle of nothing anymore. So, I began writing (and maybe smashing a few things, but that’s another story).

My writings started with some of my deepest, darkest feelings, many that will never be published or seen by any other eyes than my own.

Finding My Outlet

That blog that I had been itching to start before I left Florida slowly got higher on my things-to-do list. Before I knew it, I had nothing else to do, no other excuses, and absolutely nothing but time. I have never in my life had this much time to solely dedicate to something and probably never will again, so I was truly blessed with the timing.

After releasing much of the pain I was holding onto, many of my earlier blog posts developed.

I started slowly, by creating daily to-do lists. Making deadlines for myself to research, layout, design, write, and edit for my blog.

As I wrote about my journey leaving Florida, I reminded myself of the huge accomplishments I had made and the sacrifices to get here. How could I let all of this go? How could I fail that adventurous girl and crush her dreams? I couldn’t.

Writing became my therapy, it pulled me into another dimension. Writing about my departure and my road trip adventures pulled me back to those moments. There were days I had no idea what else was going on around me. I was completely absorbed in writing. My blog gave me a purpose again.

Eventually, just like that my writing flow came back! And just as I was set to officially launch my blog, my paperwork was approved and I was set for takeoff to my next adventure. Call it a coincidence, I call it fate. Everything truly happens for a reason.

Embracing Myself

As I look back on those very dark months, I am reminded of the blessings that came from them.

Family time. Reconnecting with old friends. Finding myself on a deeper level. Learning healthy ways to cope with life’s struggles. Finding a passion I could bring along on my adventures. And my blog.

I’m slowly embracing the person that I am. Learning to grow from my surroundings and experiences, while letting them shape me into a better person. I am not perfect, although sometimes I think I am, and I know I will stumble upon dark times again. I will fall and I will fail. And I will pick myself up again and succeed.

---

“It is impossible to live without failing at something unless you live so cautiously that you might as well not have lived at all, in which case you have failed by default. ” -J.K. Rowling

---

How do you cope with life’s curveballs? Share your healthy outlets below.